


I’d be yours, if you’d be mine

by the_problem_with_stardust



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dogs, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: Stiles wakes up to several things happening at once. The first he notices though is the paw in his gut as Jasper vaults off the bed. Derek is sitting up next to him, phone in hand and listening to a panicked voice. According to the red glow of the alarm clock, it’s only five in the morning.





	I’d be yours, if you’d be mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelyhater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyhater/gifts).



> For happyxasian/lovelyhater's glomp fest request. I had so much fun writing this prompt for you! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, all of the thanks in the world to @pororeindeer for being an amazing beta. I definitely couldn't have done this (or come up with a title lol) without you ♥

 

Stiles wakes up to several things happening at once. The first he notices though is the paw in his gut as Jasper vaults off the bed. Derek is sitting up next to him, phone in hand and listening to a panicked voice. According to the red glow of the alarm clock, it’s only five in the morning.

“Everything okay?” It’s been years since they’ve had to go off and chase bad guys in the middle of the night, but Stiles can still feel himself tensing for a fight.

Derek nods, brushing a soothing hand through Stiles’ hair like he’s one of their dogs. Stiles huffs out a laugh and Gabbro wiggles up the bed so he can stick his cold nose in Stiles’ ear.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake.” Stiles struggles into an upright position. “You’re insufferable.”

As expected, he ends up with a lapful of overly excited black labrador.

“Gabs, it’s way too early for this. We are not going for a walk when it’s still dark out.”

At the word ‘walk,’ Jasper makes a quiet noise and jumps back onto Stiles’ legs.

“Sure. Now you want back up. You two are terrible, just like your dad.”

It’s too dark to see facial expressions, but Stiles knows his boyfriend is rolling his eyes.

“If the sun isn’t up, it’s not morning. Them’s the rules.” It’s an argument they’ve had since before they started dating, but Derek still insists on getting up at ungodly hours to exercise.

Derek sighs, shifting his legs over the side of the bed so he can sit with his elbows propped on his knees. “Erica. Slow down.”

The voice on the other end of the line gets quieter.

Jasper tires of exploring Stiles’ pillow and flops onto his stomach alongside Gabbro. Stiles lets out an _ooof_ at the sudden weight, but still reaches down to scratch behind her ears.

“Hey,” Derek’s voice goes impossibly soft. “It’s going to be okay. Beacon Hills isn’t the same anymore. We’re safe and you have Boyd and the rest of your pack behind you.”

Stiles sighs. His curiosity has been piqued and Derek definitely needs to have a private conversation with his beta. So much for going back to sleep. As if sensing his defeat, Jasper lifts her head to lick under his jaw.

“Alright, you win. Let me up.”

Both dogs jump down from the bed, Jasper with a bit more grace than Gabbro who kind of slides off the mattress like he’s more of a liquid than a dog. Stiles follows them to the front door, wincing at the cold floor under his bare feet. He tugs a pair of sweatpants over his boxers on the way, pausing to clip on leashes and slip on shoes.

The morning air is a little brisk for a t-shirt, but Stiles breathes deep and revels in the feeling of being cleansed. Five years ago, Derek announced that he was building a house in the preserve. Somewhere for the pack to stay when they visited on their college breaks since many of them didn’t have anywhere else to go. Stiles had taken him up on the offer, spending more time at the house than with his dad. And after graduation, he’d never left.

Jasper yips and starts circling Stiles’ legs. “What is it pretty girl?” he asks, squatting to play with her ears. “You want me to take the leash off, is that it?”

It’s an easy part of their routine. Derek gets up, leaving Stiles and the dogs to sleep. When he comes back from his run, he kisses Stiles awake (if Jasper hasn’t dragged him out of bed already). Then Derek showers and Stiles takes their dogs for a morning walk.

And it’s been ‘their’ dogs for awhile now. Maybe even since Scott begged Derek to help out at the animal shelter and Derek had returned with two dejected looking mutts and an expression on his face that said he didn’t really know what had happened either.

Now, as Jasper prances free of her leash, poking through the underbrush and tearing after squirrels, it’s hard to imagine life any different. Gabbro trails along at a more sedate pace, stopping occasionally to sniff things and trip Stiles up.

By the time they finish their usual route, the woods have transformed from the grey twilight of dawn into the bright colors of morning. Stiles turns his face up to the sun’s rays, enjoying the warmth on his chilled skin. Gabbro pulling at his leash brings Stiles back to earth. Sure enough, Jasper is already waiting by the front door.

Derek is standing in the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed for work. He smiles as Stiles shucks off his shoes and lets the dogs scamper off to their food bowls. Leaning into his space for a good morning kiss feels so natural that Stiles can feel his heart skip. He wants to have this – the dogs, the early mornings, _Derek_ – for the rest of his life.

“Sorry to wake you up, but Erica called. She and Boyd are having a baby.”

The news makes Stiles grin. Even with everything high school and the supernatural world had thrown at them, they’d made it. More than that, they’d thrived.

Derek kisses him again and presses a mug of coffee, two sugars and a splash of cream, into Stiles’ cold hands. He inhales the steam curling from the mug, marveling at the way Derek knows what he likes even better than himself.

“Marry me,” he says after taking the first perfect sip.

Derek laughs, like Stiles hadn’t just proposed to him in his pajamas. “You really want to steal Erica’s thunder?”

And that’s fair, Stiles supposes. The first pack kid shouldn’t be overshadowed by the alpha’s engagement. He can wait another month or so before asking again.

\---

Stiles does not make it another month. Or even a week for that matter. Because Friday night he walks through the door and drops his backpack to the floor in shock. He’s had the worst day, dealing with his advisor and deadlines and picking up slack for a fellow TA who called in sick fifteen minutes before their class started.

Texting Derek is the one thing that kept him sane. Mainly because he knew that once he got home, there were two straight days of relaxing with Derek and the dogs to look forward to.

But judging by the smell, Derek hadn’t spent the day only answering his texts. Following his nose, Stiles finds his boyfriend sitting at the kitchen table with a book in front of him,

Stiles drapes himself over the back of the chair so he can wrap his arms around Derek’s shoulders and bury his face in his neck. “You made golabki”

Derek hums, marking his page with a post-it before turning in Stiles’ arms. “You had a long week.”

They kiss until the oven timer goes off and Derek gently escapes Stiles’ hold. Stiles plops down into the vacated seat and watches as Derek pulls a tray of cabbage rolls from the oven. They look and smell exactly like the ones his mother used to make, which means Derek and his dad must have exchanged recipes during one of their bonding nights.

Derek sets a bowl of salad and some crusty bread on the table before bringing Stiles his plate. Stiles catches his hand before he can move away and pulls him down for another kiss.

“Marry me?” he asks, breathless and feeling hopeful.

Instead of responding, Derek kisses his cheek and makes up his own plate.

Stiles shovels food into his mouth – and he was right, this is his mother’s recipe – trying to fill the hole he can feel opening in his stomach. Maybe Derek didn’t hear him. Or maybe now wasn’t a good time.

\---

It’s nearing the end of the semester when the pack gathers at the house for a celebration. Stiles isn’t entirely sure what they are celebrating, but he loves it when everyone is in the same place.

And Derek loves it too. They spend the afternoon and well into the evening talking and laughing and eating all kinds of good food. After their first attempt to cook for the pack, Stiles made the rule that anyone who came had to bring a dish to pass. Because werewolves ate way more than their kitchen could handle making.

Stiles is deep in a conversation with Erica, Boyd, and Lydia about baby names when Derek walks into the living room. Isaac and Jackson are on dish duty tonight and Stiles just knows that he’s going to have to rearrange the dishwasher before bed. Otherwise they’ll end up with baklava still stuck to the plates.

Before Stiles can feel annoyed, Derek claims the cushion beside him on couch. He knocks their shoulders together and laces his fingers with the hand that is not currently expressing Stiles’ distaste at the idea of naming a child Vernon Boyd the Sixth.

When he’s finished with his tirade (which Boyd had nodded along during, agreeing with all of Stiles’ major points), Derek settles against his side. Stiles turns his face into Derek’s soft hair and sighs.

“Do we need to buy more dishes?”

Derek laughs quietly. “No, thank god. There weren’t any casualties this time around.”

Stiles hums, remembering the time that a heated argument resulted in them needing an entire new set of glassware. They’ve since learned to use plastic cups on full moon nights.

“And don’t worry. I made sure they loaded the dishwasher with everything ‘in position for optimum clean-ness.’”

Even though the tone is teasing – Derek doesn’t understand why he’s so adamant that the dishes have to go a certain way – Stiles is incredibly touched.

“You are an amazing boyfriend. Please marry me?”

Derek makes an amused sound and drags his nose along the underside of Stiles’ jaw. Maybe the middle of pack night with Erica and Lydia arguing over which moon deity would make sense to name a baby werewolf after wasn’t the ideal time for a proposal either. Derek wasn’t saying no, which had to be a good sign. Right?

\---

Stiles hates reading. Well, that’s not true. Stiles hates reading academic journals because they are dry and boring as hell. He never would’ve guessed that someone could make their area of study this tedious, but here he is, trying not to fall asleep over a text detailing ritual sacrifices in various mythologies.

Jasper shifts, poking her muzzle underneath Stiles’ tablet and shattering the last of his focus. “Hey there, pretty girl. Am I not paying attention to you?”

She licks the inside of his wrist as he tugs her ears, making him laugh. Then, she settles back down across his upper body, tucking her cold nose against his neck now that the offending tablet is out of her way.

Stiles closes his eyes, sinking into the cushions beneath him. This couch was the first piece of furniture he and Derek purchased for the house. The memory of visiting every furniture store within reasonable driving distance brings a smile to Stiles’ lips. He insisted on laying on every single couch in various positions to test for ideal comfortableness. Derek just shook his head and looked fond. But even he had to agree; they’d managed to find the most comfortable couch in all of California.

One hand buried in Jasper’s warm fur, Stiles turns his attention to the other end of the couch. Derek is absorbed in reading _The Alchemist_ in its original Portuguese because he’s an adorable bookworm who is probably even smarter than Lydia Martin. His free hand is resting on Stiles’ shin, thumb absentmindedly stroking over the fabric of his jeans.

Stiles feels that familiar hiccup in his heartbeat. Sharing space with Derek is easy in a way Stiles had never imagined. And he doesn’t want to lose this, even though logically he knows Derek isn’t going anywhere.

Wiggling his sock-clad feet (and his socks are ridiculous, patterned with little wolves howling at a crooked moon), he manages to get Derek’s attention. Derek takes in the sight of him sprawled out on the couch, Jasper covering his torso like an incredibly heavy blanket, and smiles.

“You done for the night?” he asks, dropping his book onto the coffee table.

Stiles nods, earning himself an annoyed grumble from Jasper. She must decide that her pillow is moving too much because she clambers off of Stiles with little grace. Stiles winces at the unexpected paws scrabbling at his sides and digging into his stomach before Jasper stalks out of the room, presumably to find Gabbro.

When he looks back to Derek, he is watching him with a soft smile. It’s an expression that Stiles loves more than any other. Mainly because Derek reserves it just for him.

He returns the smile with one of his own. Scott likes to call it his ‘Derek face’ because it makes him look absolutely besotted. The teasing doesn’t bother him because Stiles _is_ absolutely besotted, and he knows that in this moment, his scent is bleeding out contentedness and love.

Carefully, Derek stretches the length of his body over him, pressing Stiles further into the couch. The weight is familiar, reassuring, and Stiles relaxes to the point of feeling boneless. Derek stays still, mapping out the planes of Stiles’ face with his eyes, as if committing every detail to memory.

Instead of making him feel vulnerable, the attention gives Stiles the last bit of courage he needs.

“Derek. Marry me. Please.”

Then Derek’s mouth is on his, hot and distracting. Because that is exactly what this is. A distraction from the fact that Derek once again avoided the question. Stiles tries to shove the negative thoughts to the back of his head and focuses on giving back as good as he gets. Because Derek loves him. And that should be enough.

\---

Falling asleep has always been an issue for Stiles. His brain tends to spin out of control, especially when he’s stressed. Normally, he’d ask Derek to read out loud or talk to him about his day; anything to keep him distracted from the dark places in his head. But it’s never been _Derek_ that he was worried over, so he isn’t sure what to do.

His boyfriend must sense his unrest, although he’s being careful to hold himself still. Derek sets his book aside and leans over to study him.

“What’s going on?”

Stiles can’t bring himself to meet Derek’s eyes. Instead, he looks to the corner of the room, where Jasper decided she’d rather sleep on Stiles’ growing pile of dirty laundry. Gabbro had joined her, burrowing under one of his old lacrosse hoodies so only the tip of his nose is visible.

Reaching out, Derek traces along the side of Stiles’ face. “Hey, talk to me.”

Stiles wants to laugh because in what universe does Derek ‘shut-up-Stiles’ Hale say those words to anyone.

“Stiles.”

And fuck. Was that a tear slipping down his cheek? Stiles clenches his jaw shut because he is not going to cry over something this stupid. Derek loves him. He just doesn’t want to marry him. It’s fine.

The next thing he knows, Derek is pulling him onto his lap, brushing his hands over Stiles’ skin as if checking for the source of his distress. And the tenderness in those touches is what finally does Stiles in.

“What did I do wrong?” He asks, his voice breaking on the question, and Derek pulls back to look at him in surprise.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’re perfect.”

Stiles snorts, wiping at his eyes. “Sure.”

The word rings hollow in his ears and the expression on Derek’s face shifts from concerned to worried, before settling on devastated. His eyes are stripped raw and Stiles can’t bear to look at him.

“Sorry. I- ” he takes a breath. “I’m going for a walk.”

Derek makes a wounded noise but lets him go. They both know he’s coming back, so Derek doesn’t push. It’s a major improvement upon the first time Stiles needed space after a disagreement got a little too intense. Derek had worked himself into a state of panic that took Stiles hours to soothe away.

But now, Derek knows that Stiles sometimes needs time to sort out his thoughts. So he leaves Derek on the bed, gathering up a pair of socks and his tennis shoes as he heads toward the door. Gabbro pads down the stairs after him and covers his chin in doggy slobber as he tightens the laces on his shoes.

“Go see your dad, bud. I’m gonna be okay.” Even with the battered feeling around his heart, Stiles manages to smile and rub Gabbro’s flanks just the way the lab likes.

Gabbro drags his tongue one last time along Stiles’ jaw before letting himself be pushed away so Stiles can leave. But he can still feel eyes on him as he closes the front door firmly behind him and heads out for the preserve.

It takes awhile for the night air to chase the voices out of his head, easing the anxiety clawing at his insides. His phone is still charging on his nightstand, so he has no idea what time it is. Just that the bright silver silhouette of the moon is now riding much higher in the sky.

Stiles pauses at the front door, unsure of what to say. But he’s tired and shivering, so he pushes it open and steps inside.

Derek is sitting in the front window seat, wrapped in their softest blanket, a steaming mug balanced on his knees. Gabbro is asleep beside him in an awkward pile of limbs, oblivious to Derek’s hand mechanically stroking through his fur.

Stiles knows that from his location (and the fact that he’s an alpha werewolf), there is no way Derek is unaware of his presence. Instead, he’s looking out the window and giving Stiles the choice to retreat to the solitude of their bed or to engage him in conversation.

The thoughtfulness behind the gesture has Stiles’ insides unraveling. Because this is the behavior of someone who _knows_ Stiles. Knows him and understands him in a way that no one else has managed.

Careful not to disturb the quiet, Stiles removes his shoes and heads for the kitchen. Sure enough, his favorite batman mug is on the counter, already filled with Derek’s homemade hot chocolate. Stiles wraps his frozen fingers around the mug and inhales deeply, the hint of peppermint lightening his mood even further.

He shuffles back to the entryway, snagging another blanket from the back of the couch as he goes. Derek stays still as stone, eyes fixed somewhere in the dark woods, as Stiles squeezes onto the opposite side of the window seat. Gabbro twitches, paws moving like he’s caught in a doggy dream.

Stiles just pulls the blanket tight around his shoulders and sips his hot chocolate, watching Derek stare intently out the window. Gradually, Derek’s hand starts moving again, brushing over Gabbro’s soft fur. It’s a charged silence, neither of them sure of what to say. Stiles may not be a werewolf, but he has lived with Derek long enough to pick up on his mood. And Derek is clearly  feeling uneasy.

He hates himself for a moment because this is _Derek_. Honesty and communication is integral to making their relationship work, yet Stiles has been letting himself get more and more insecure when he should have just _asked_.

Letting one hand drop away from his mug, Stiles reaches out to catch Derek’s fingers. He untangles them from Gabbro’s fur and just holds on gently, letting Derek weave their hands together and rest on top of the sleeping dog between them.

Only then does Derek look away from the woods, eyes latching onto Stiles’ and face carefully blank. Too bad Stiles learned how to see through his mask years ago. And what he finds makes his chest ache. Because Derek has no idea why he’s upset, and the doubt and uncertainty mirrors what Stiles was feeling earlier.

Lifting their joined hands, Stiles presses a kiss to the back of his wrist. Some of the tension in Derek’s shoulders seeps away, leaving him slumped against his side of the window. Moments slip past, honey-slow in the dark as Stiles’ thumb leisurely traces circles against the smooth skin of Derek’s palm. He sips his hot chocolate and gathers his thoughts, no longer jittery with worry and fear.

It takes Gabbro perking up, ears forward, to snap them out of their heads. The lab pads slowly up the stairs, most likely returning to the laundry pile in their room.

Strangely enough, it’s Derek who speaks first. “I know you’ve been acting strange for weeks. I thought you were just stressed about school.” He drops his gaze to their hands and sets his empty mug on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles sighs, placing his mug beside Derek’s and scooting down the seat so he can curl up against Derek’s side. He rubs his cheek against the soft blanket and mumbles, “I was being dumb. ‘m sorry.”

But Derek is already shaking his head. “If it upset you that much I’m sure it’s not dumb.” He presses a kiss to the side of Stiles’ head and wraps his arm over Stiles’ shoulder. “Besides, I know you. And you’re definitely not dumb. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

Stiles closes his eyes and leans further into Derek’s space, loving the way his arm tightens across his shoulders. “Why don’t you want to marry me?”

Derek goes rigid beside him and Stiles pulls back to read his face. There is shock there, and maybe regret? Stiles can’t really tell.

“Hey. It’s okay. I know we should have talked about it first.” Stiles cradles Derek’s jaw in his hands. “I’m the one always telling you to use your words and then I go around not using mine. I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.”

It takes Derek several long seconds to catch up. “I didn’t know you meant it.”

He sounds wrecked and Stiles can’t help climbing the rest of the way into his lap so he can kiss his forehead.

“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you.” Stiles pulls him down so his head is pillowed on his shoulder.

Derek takes deep, shuddering breaths and for a moment Stiles worries that he’s sobbing. But when he finally sits back against the window, Stiles is floored by the awestruck look on his face.

“The ideas. The ones you gave Erica and Scott and Isaac. I just expected-”

Stiles laughs quietly, leaning down to steal a chocolate flavored kiss. “Are you telling me you expected a flash mob? A proposal kidnapping? An entire restaurant breaking out into song?”

The helpless shrug Derek gives in response has Stiles sobering, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You told me you hated grand public gestures.”

Derek tilts his head, like he’s surprised Stiles even remembers that conversation. “I do. I just figured that you didn’t.”

Stiles barely refrains from rolling his eyes. This is important. “Derek. I love you. And we’re in this together so if something makes you uncomfortable, we don’t do it.”

“And vice versa,” Derek says, resting his hands on Stiles’ hips.  

The silence stretches between them, but it’s a comfortable one. Stiles’ head is quiet now, no longer spinning with anxious thoughts.

“Ask me again.”

Stiles blinks, eyes searching Derek’s face. “Are you sure?”

Derek nods, looking almost giddy. His excitement makes Stiles grin and he moves to slide off of Derek’s lap. But the hands on his hips tighten, keeping him in place. Non-traditional was good. Plus, Stiles hadn’t gone down on one knee on his previous tries.

“Derek Hale. Love of my life. The moon to my stars. The jelly to my peanut butter.”

Derek snorts, but his smile doesn’t diminish. So, Stiles forges on.

“We’ve dated for almost five years, lived together for two, and I can’t imagine a world where I don’t wake up to your alarm clock going off at an unreasonable hour.” Stiles takes a deep breath, unable to stop himself from touching Derek. “You are so good. The best man I’ve ever met. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real or that I get to have you. And you have me. It blows my mind.”

He watches Derek kiss along the inside of his forearm as he cups his face. All the while, the thumbs on his hips are sweeping up and down, keeping him grounded. Stiles gives in to the urge to kiss him, capturing Derek’s lips and trying to tell him with his entire body that this is real.

“I love you,” he breathes, foreheads resting together. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

Derek looks like he might smirk at the cheesiness, but then he’s kissing Stiles, pushing him down on the window seat and resting between his bent knees.

“Yes.” The word is growled into the skin of Stiles’ throat and he shivers.

Outside the window, dawn is finally breaking, the sun chasing away the shadows of the night before. Stiles barely notices, too caught up in the taste and feel of Derek and the knowledge that he gets to keep this. To keep _Derek._ Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the mods for organizing and running this event!!
> 
> Rebloggable post and edit [HERE :D](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com/post/172160156462/id-be-yours-if-youd-be-mine-stiles-wakes-up-to)


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